


Safe With Me

by TheDarkestSunrise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Car Accidents, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestSunrise/pseuds/TheDarkestSunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long, tiring day, Jordan wanders around his apartment, remembering things. <br/>Based on the story in Megan Nicole’s music video “Safe With Me”. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwlrfaetKwc).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe With Me

It’s already late when he closes the door behind him. Leaning against the doorframe, he takes a few deep breaths before making his way to the couch and sitting down, ignoring the girl in the beautiful white gown opposite him. While he loosens his tie, he remembers putting on his suit in the morning, preparing himself for this day. But after that… After that the entire day just… turned into a blur. He still has some faint memories of shaking people’s hands, receiving hugs from others, the usual things that happen on a day like this.

He turns on the television, telling himself that it’s a way for him to relax, but while he tries to convince himself of this, he already knows that he’s lying. It’s a way to distract himself, to keep the memories of today from crawling back into his mind, from becoming vivid again. He knows the girl is still there, her strawberry blonde curls cascading over her shoulders in thick waves. He also knows that he can’t look at her. He knows that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to look away from her. From Lydia.

_His Lydia._

He rubs his hands over his face, pushing the events of today to a more secluded part of his mind, putting them away in the best secured box and locking it. Locking it once, twice, infinite times, making sure that those memories will never disappear, but will never resurface again either. At least not for now.

His hands lower from his face and fall down beside him on the couch. He stares at his left hand for a moment. He stares at his fingers, his ring finger, before shaking his head.  _Stop thinking about it_ , he tells himself.  _Just stop!_ He gathers the Polaroid pictures that are still spread out over the couch pillows in the same way he left them last night. He starts looking through them again, for what feels like the millionth time in a couple of days. These are the memories he wants to remember.

He pauses to look at a picture of him and the girl together in the Beacon Hills Preserve. A soft voice in his mind tells him he’s supposed to smile at the memory, but instead he’s pushing back tears. He shouldn’t feel like this while staring at this picture. He should feel happy and excited and nervous because it had been their first official date. No coffee at midnight during a stakeout, no quick meetings at the station or flipping through the bestiary in his apartment. 

No.

This had been a real date. A date where he’d planned everything, from the timing to the homemade picnic. A date where he went to pick her up at her house, lead her to a clearing in the Preserve, laid out the chequered blanket, his palms sweating as he poured her a drink, spilling a bit. He had been so worried about messing something up, because this date needed to be perfect, because Lydia Martin didn’t deserve anything less than perfect.

He’d only relaxed after she told him to, touching his hand, reassuring him that no matter what he did, it’d be perfect. She told him that just being there with him was enough for her. She didn’t need anything too fancy, just the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. And he did. He’d enveloped her in an embrace, promising her that he’d take care of her, that he’d sooner die than letting anything happen to her. Promising her that she’d be safe with him.  And then he’d kissed her for the 23rd time, because kissing Lydia Martin was something he needed to cherish and keep count of.

He puts the pictures back down beside him on the couch and gets up. Walking past the girl, he can feel her eyes following him around the room, but he doesn’t look at her. He’s not going to risk it. What if he did? Maybe she’d disappear and leave him forever. He’d rather never look at her ever again, but still have her around. Still hear her footsteps behind him while he makes his way to the kitchen. But he wants to turn around and look at her so badly, even if it’s for just a second. But he can’t. He knows he can’t. He reminds himself over and over again.  _You can’t, Jordan_ , he tells himself.  _You can’t!_ He can’t. He won’t.

On his way to the kitchen, he passes the record player, the vinyl she got him for last year’s Christmas still on it.

She’d shown up to his apartment on Christmas morning, looking stunning in a black lace dress. She always looked stunning, of course, but that didn’t mean he’d ever get used to it. She’d kissed him, their 409th kiss, and handed him the record. He had been amazed that she still remembered him telling her how he’d had a record player for years, but never got around to actually buying something to play on it. But then he remembered that it was Lydia Martin standing in front of him. Bright, brilliant Lydia Martin, who he, somehow, could call his girlfriend. He must have been the luckiest man in the world.

He had lead her to a chair, sat her down and told her to wait for a second while he went to get the present he’d bought for her. He came back quickly, went to stand behind the chair she was sat in, and put the fragile gold necklace around her neck. Lydia had carefully taken the small pendant between her fingers to look at it, and the smile that spread over her lips…That smile…He’d do anything to see that smile.  _You remembered?_  she’d asked him. Of course he had. The delicate golden necklace with the sea shell pendant that reminded her of the one she got from her grandmother when she was little. How could he forget?

She’d thanked him with a tight embrace and a kiss, the 410th. After that, she’d asked him if he could put on track number 3 on the record. He did, and moments later the apartment filled with a slow song and the creaking of the pin on the vinyl. He’d turned around to see her extending her hand at him.  _Dance with me_ , she’d asked him. He’d smiled as he took hold of her hand, carefully placing his other hand on her waist as she put her free hand on his shoulder. They’d swayed to the music, and in that moment, he knew. He knew that he wanted this moment to last forever. Him. Her. Together like this. He wanted to freeze this moment, store it somewhere and never have it end. That was the moment he knew he would ask her, sooner rather than later.

He pinches his eyes shut at the memory, trying to get it out of his head. It’s no use. He takes a deep breath before walking into the kitchen, the strawberry blonde still behind him. He leans on the kitchen sink, trying to compose himself after remembering all these things. It doesn’t work. Instead, he pulls open one of the kitchen drawers and takes out a small velvet box, the same place he had hid it from her. He opens it, the ring still inside.

He was going to ask her on her birthday. He’d taken her out to dinner in her favourite restaurant and was going to ask her once they got back to his place. He’d been practising what he was going to say for weeks. If he only had one shot at proposing to Lydia Martin, he wasn’t going to mess it up. The nerves had started to kick in when he stopped at a red light at the intersection near his apartment. He was going to do it. This was happening. He was going to ask Lydia Martin to marry him.

The light turned green, and he started driving again. They’d almost crossed the intersection, when from the corner of his eye, he could see a bright light coming their way. He turned to his right to see what it was, and behind the girl smiling in the passenger’s seat beside him, he could see a car coming closer and closer. And before he could realise what was happening, it was too late.

He woke up in the hospital a couple of hours later, his injuries having healed faster than they were supposed to. But he didn’t care about his supernatural side at the moment. She was the only thing on his mind.  _Where is she? Is she okay? Where’s Lydia?_  He stumbled out of bed and ran out into the hallway, looking for a doctor who could give him the answers he was looking for. 

But he found someone else.

He found Natalie in a tight embrace with Mrs. McCall, both of them having tears streaming down their cheeks. _No…_  The voice in his head whispered. He took a step closer to the two women, who looked up at him. He locked eyes with Lydia’s mother, and the sorrow, tears, and pain in her eyes were enough to make the whisper in his head turn into an endless, everlasting scream.

He can hear that voice again, shouting at him for remembering this moment. He stares down at the box in his hands. The box he never got to give her, the question he never got to ask. He feels the anger build up inside of him. Anger towards the driver of the other car, who got out of the accident with some bruises and cuts, but mostly anger towards himself. He had promised her that he’d take care of her, that he’d sooner die than let anything happen to her, that she’d be safe with him. He broke all those promises.

He failed.

He throws the velvet box across the room and leans back against the kitchen counter, fighting to hold back the tears. He can feel the girl’s eyes on him, trying to make him look at her. His resistance starts to fail. What he wouldn’t give to look at her. Just one look. Just a second. He shakes his head, getting rid of those thoughts. He doesn’t look at her when he leaves the kitchen, goes to his room and sits down on the bed.

She sits down next to him, close enough for him to feel her presence.  _Don’t look at her,_  he tells himself.  _Please, don’t look at her._  He focuses on something glistening on the bedside table instead. It’s the necklace he gave her on Christmas. He picks it up, holds it in his hands, carefully strokes the sea shell pendant with his thumb. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the girl shift beside him. He can see how her hand moves up to the necklace she’s wearing, and he knows it’s the same necklace as the one in his hands. He can see her wrapping her fingers around the pendant, treasuring it. He can feel her look up from the necklace, turning towards him, and it takes everything he has to not look at her. But then he can see her move her hand, gently placing it on his shoulder.

His breath hitches in his throat at the touch, and his eyes fall shut.  _Just do it, Jordan_ , a voice in his head tells him. _Just one look_. _Go on. Just look at her._  He slowly opens his eyes again, looking down at the ground, and slowly starts turning towards her. He slowly looks up, wanting to meet the girl’s hazel eyes once again. The thought of seeing her face again fills him with a fire that only she could give him. 

But when he looks up, the strawberry blonde has disappeared. The bed is empty. He’s alone. It’s just him. She’s gone. The fire’s extinguished. 

And a single tear falls down onto his cheek.


End file.
